


Where the Heart Is

by MostFacinorous



Category: Marvel
Genre: Living Together, M/M, Secret Relationship, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: Steve and Loki have been together for a while.Now that Bucky's back in the picture, Loki's afraid that will change, along with everything else.





	1. One

“He’s not ready yet. To know, I mean. About us.” 

Loki sighed and set his toothbrush down, bracing his arms against the counter and lowering his head. 

From the other room, Steve watched him. 

He was wound tighty; they both were. And he hated knowing that he was doing that to him. But… he didn’t know what else to do. 

He needed more time. Needed to figure out how to keep them both. How to have it all, as best as he could. 

“What would you have me do, Steve?” Loki asked, and he sounded so damn resigned that Steve couldn’t stay sitting on the bed. He stood and crossed into the other room, wrapping his arms around Loki from behind. 

He pressed his lips to the back of his bare shoulder, drinking in the heat that rolled off of his skin from the too-warm shower he’d just taken.

Some form of self punishment, Steve knew, though he didn’t know what for this time. And he couldn’t bring it up right now; that was an old argument, and he needed to ask too many big favors-- needed to ask too much of Loki, once again. 

“He’s gonna need to stay with me for a little while.” Steve said, finally, quietly. 

Loki jolted as if he’d been slapped. 

“With you.” He said, words too flat to be a question, but voice too high for him to sound casual. “Not-- not  _ us _ . You want me to leave.” 

Steve snuck a look in the mirror. Loki had his eyes closed, pain etched into his face until he opened them, caught Steve staring, and smoothed the expression away as if it had never been. Steve knew better, though. 

“I’m not sending you away.” He said, trying to sound reassuring. “I want us to move to a bigger place. Just… we’ll have to have separate rooms for a while. You’ll still be with me. I mean.. If you want. I want you with me but… I know it’s a lot to ask. I just… I don’t have much choice. He needs me right now, and…” 

“And I do not?” Loki asked, words arch and bitter, and he shook his head quickly. “No, sorry; of course. Of course I will come with you. Wherever you go, did I not promise you?” 

Steve exhaled, relieved. 

“He’s like me. Stronger senses. We’ll have to-- we can still be  _ together _ , but we’ll need your magic to keep us quiet, to clean up. It’ll be a lot of work… a lot of hiding.” Steve warned him. 

Loki turned around, to face him. 

“You’ve thought a lot about this.” He said, again, not quite asking. Steve nodded anyway. 

“I’ve been worried about it since we found him. I don’t want to lose either of you. And until I know that he--” Steve took a deep breath. “We were raised together. The same way. Everything I used to be afraid of, about us? All the religion stuff, all the what will other people think stuff? The rest of the world’s gotten better, but he’s from when I was. And he…” Steve licked his lips, that suddenly felt dry. 

“I need to give him time to heal first, then to catch up to society and trends and… and I can’t tell him until I know he won’t hate me for it. Especially not so long as I’m all he has.” 

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Loki’s. 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not what either of us had in mind. And it’s a lot to ask. If you don’t want to, if it’s easier for you… I wouldn’t blame you if you want to… to leave.”

Loki caught the sides of Steve’s face in his hands and made Steve look him in the eyes. 

“I would hide us from everyone, if I had to, for as long as necessary, if it meant being able to keep you. I am not going anywhere. And… when it comes time, just know that you will not have to tell him alone.” 

Steve nodded, releasing a shuddery sigh. 

“Thank you.” He said, breath brushing over Loki’s lips. 

“We will look for a suitable home tomorrow. In the meantime, come to bed and let me have my fill of touching you before I have to begin to abstain.” He made a disgruntled face, and Steve laughed, despite the unease he felt at putting Loki in this position, again.

He’d kept him a secret from his other friends for long enough, and it hurt, trying to shove him under the rug like this for Bucky. 

He’d have to talk to the others, let them know what was up. Make them promise to keep their mouths shut around Bucky, if they saw him. 

If he was even up to seeing other people.

Which, of course, led to the question that Steve hadn’t been hopeful enough to ponder until just now: What if Bucky and Loki didn’t get along? What if they couldn’t cohabitate successfully?

He let Loki pull him back into their room, let him smooth the worry lines off his face, and turned his attention solely on him, knowing it might be the last chance he got to do so for a while.

 

\---

 

Bucky had frown lines that seemed permanently pressed into his forehead. Well earned though they were, Loki found them distressing, because it made it hard to tell what he thought of any given situation. 

Now, for example, when both Steve and Loki were hanging back, watching Bucky inspect the empty apartment. 

“If you don’t like it, we can keep looking,” Steve said, despite the fact that they had spent days-- more time than he had wanted to-- on finding this place. 

Loki winced sympathetically, but kept it internal. 

He was supposed to be acting as if he was on the same level as Bucky. Maybe he could help influence his decision-- though he knew Steve would disapprove of anything that even smelled like manipulation, as directed toward his friend. 

“It suits me well enough. Though the two of you may choose your rooms first; I don’t care.”

And he didn’t, because whatever room Steve took, he intended to spend as many nights as possible in it. 

“Security isn’t ideal,” Bucky said finally. “Too many windows. But it will work.” 

Steve glanced at Loki, looking grateful, but the other man still had Loki’s attention, mostly. 

Too many windows made it sound like what he expected-- what he  _ wanted _ \-- was a cell. 

“I can help to make the windows impenetrable by weapon or human, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Loki told him.

“And we can get blinds and curtains, if you’re worried about being seen.” Steve added. 

Bucky looked back and forth between the two of them, his eyes narrowing. 

“Why?” He asked, pointed and succinct. 

Steve’s smile fell away. 

“Why what, Buck?” he asked, wary now. 

Bucky nodded at Loki, though he kept his eyes locked on Steve. 

“Why’s he here, why’s he trying to be helpful? You, I understand. You’re guilty. But him-- why?” 

Loki was not particularly fond of being spoken of as though he weren’t there. He was even less fond of the way Steve looked at being proclaimed guilty.

“Steve only feels guilty; I actually am. And until I have made my amends… Steve has an unfortunate habit of collecting pet murderers.” Loki’s words came out a little caustic, a little barbed, and though they were softened slightly by the fond glance he shot at Steve, the sharp look that he received in return was almost cutting. And worse still was the irritated one from Barnes that followed-- as though he had expected Loki to stay silent. 

“So you’re making amends by helping rehabilitate me? While being rehabilitated.” He spoke flatly, and Loki swallowed, well aware that if he couldn’t straighten this out, he might lose his chance to be part of Steve’s life, for however long Barnes  _ needed him _ . 

“I am working to learn to be more like Steve, something I think more people ought to do. And part of that means helping others to feel safe. That includes you.” Loki raised his hands, though. “However, if my offers are unwelcome, you need only say. I can leave you your space easily enough.” 

He just hated the idea of trying to avoid someone he was living with, in a place of this size. 

Bucky turned back to Steve. 

“And you trust him?” He asked. 

“I trust both of you. Neither of you would be here otherwise.” Steve said firmly. And there wasn’t much either of them could say to argue that point. 

“I’ll take the middle room, then.” Bucky said, turning to walk into it- which was unnecessary, because at this point, there was nothing inside. 

Loki understood his choice; he should have anticipated it. That room only had one window, and it wasn’t the closest to the front door. But it did place him conveniently between Steve’s room and Loki’s, no matter how they landed, and that meant having to sneak past him to see one another. 

Wonderful. 

“You should take the master bedroom.” Loki told Steve. “Seeing as you’re the only one living here with an actual record of their existence.”

He was trying to make light, but he felt fairly bitter about how the afternoon had gone so far. 

“Hey, none of that. We’ll get there, for both of you.” Steve glanced toward Bucky’s door, then stepped in closer to Loki. 

“Thanks for helping out. But try not to let him get under your skin like that, okay? He’s lashing out because he’s off balance. It’ll get better.”

Loki nodded. 

“I’ll start with the furniture. I ah-- do you want to talk to him first? I couldn’t tell from--” he gestured towards Barnes’ room-- “I don’t want my magic to make him uncomfortable. You might take him outside, arrange dinner or something, if that’s the case.” Loki was  _ trying _ at least to be thoughtful. Despite playing the part of someone new to the work of being seen as good, he’d had plenty of practice. Practice enough to gain first Steve’s trust, then his love. 

But, he reminded himself, he’d earned neither from Bucky. 

And so he should not have been surprised when Barnes emerged from the empty room, having done whatever it was he’d gone in there to achieve, assumably. 

“What are you doing with your magic?” He asked sharply, the distrust almost audible. 

Loki tried not to react-- not to that and not to the way Steve casually stepped away from him, in turning to address Barnes. 

“Loki tucked all of my furniture and everything I bought for this place in a magic storage unit, and he’s going to start unpacking it. You’re welcome to stick around; there’ll be plenty to unbox. Or if the magic part makes you nervous, like he said, we could go figure out what’s nearby that we can bring back for dinner.” 

Barnes looked between them with narrowed eyes. 

“So you knew we’d be staying here, then-- it’s already yours?” He directed that at Steve, and Steve widened his eyes. 

“Actually this building belongs to a friend of mine, and while it’s the easiest thing on offer, it wasn’t the only option, and if you didn’t like it-- or don’t, really, we can look somewhere else. Loki and I have been in hotel rooms for the last week or so while we got everything straightened out with SHIELD to get you, so. It’s not a big deal.” Steve said, trying clearly and desperately to smooth everything over. 

Barnes didn’t even acknowledge the answer, though, turning instead to look at Loki. 

“Where’s the stuff at right now?” He asked. 

Loki grasped for words.

“I-- let’s see, if you think of us as existing on one plane,” he held out a hand flat, then raised his other hand paralel above it. “And Asgard, where I’m from, exists on another. There’s physical space between the two but also… energy space?” He looked to Steve, hoping he could help to translate. 

“A liminal dimension.” Barnes supplied, unblinking, and Loki nodded at that, smiling with relief. 

“You always did like your science fiction.” Steve grumbled, sounding distinctly put out by his own inability to grasp such concepts, sometimes. Loki’s smile widened. 

At least this part he had explained to Steve before.

“Somewhere that is connected to both, but is neither. Something between the worlds. I put the things there, and tie them to me, so that the point of access is just here.” He raised his hand and traced the faint glowing line around his wrist. It came undone and settled across his palm. 

“And if I pull on the string, I will begin pulling the contents of that middle realm out into this one.” 

Barnes nodded, then stepped back to hover in the doorway to his room.

“C’mon Stevie, I gotta see this.”

With a tiny smile, Steve moved to stand beside him and nodded at Loki to begin. 

He took a breath and began to pull, stepping aside as the first of the boxes slid into the space- a bed, but not their bed. 

“This is the bed we picked up for Barnes,” He reported. 

“If you don’t like it, we can always return it and get you something else. Just didn’t want you to have to sleep on the floor your first night out in the world.” Steve assured him quickly. 

Barnes was already stepping forward to grab it, though, and at the mention of returning it, he pulled the large box to his chest, looking at Steve as if he were crazy. 

Steve laughed. 

“Alright, well, just put it in your room for now. I’ll help you set it up once we’ve got Loki all unloaded.”

He did not much like the turn of phrase, which made him sound like a pack horse. Still, that was what he was, essentially, for the time being, so he let it go. 

“Couch next.” He warned, tugging that forward. 

“Help me push this against that wall. We can rearrange once we know where we want things.”

Steve and Barnes made short work of that, and next came an entertainment center, then a television, a desk and a chair, a dining room table and four chairs, a refrigerator, Steve’s bed, mattresses and box springs for all of their beds, another boxed bed for Loki’s room, three matching dressers, boxes of clothing, cleaning supplies, three bookshelves, a box of Steve’s books, Loki’s books, dishes, cooking implements… 

Loki must have produced a hundred items by the time he was done, and it left him feeling a little shaky. 

He collapsed onto the loveseat and stitched the opening between the realms closed using the same string he’d been pulling on, then dropped his head backwards and let his hand fall to the side. 

“You okay Loki?” Steve asked, almost instantly hovering, and Loki offered him a reassuring small smile. 

“I am fine. Tired-- but we just moved, so there is no surprise to that. Let me rest a minute, and then I will be able to be of some help with unpacking and assembly.” 

“Take your time. Bucky and I will get started on the beds, and you just let me know if you need anything.

Normally, Loki knew, such a statement would be punctuated with a kiss-- either on his mouth or forehead. But with Barnes here… 

He let his eyelid crack open and saw Barnes staring at him, but with those damned furrows he wore, Loki had no idea if he felt afraid or awed or angry-- He let his eye close again, determined, at the moment, not to care. 

“Thanks.” He heard, and his eyes slammed open in surprise. Barnes’s voice had been small, but it was unmistakably his. “That sure beat making a hundred trips up the stairs.” 

Loki flapped his hand at him. 

“My pleasure.” He answered, though with as tired as he felt, he worried it sounded insincere. 

Either way, it seemed to be enough-- it got Barnes to leave, to head into the room to begin work on his bed, and Steve grinned. 

“He’s right-- that was amazing. Thank you.” He told Loki, before following. 

Loki told himself that the thanks were enough, that the lack of touch wasn’t the end of the world. It was just his new reality-- he would learn to get used to it. 

Telling himself that didn’t really lessen the ache, though.

 

\---

 

By the time dinner arrived-- pizza ordered from the nearest place that delivered, which Steve assured them was a tradition-- Loki had regained some energy. Not enough that he felt like he was fully there, but at least he wasn’t falling asleep, as he’d nearly done on the couch. 

Barnes kept watching him, and he tried to ignore it as he raised his pizza slice to his mouth, tried not to let the scrutiny bother him. 

But it felt as if he had not stopped staring since they’d arrived to retrieve him from SHIELD. And Loki was beginning to tire of the pinned insect impression he was doing. 

He sat the pizza down, untouched, and shoved away from the table. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” 

He was curt, but he knew if he said anything it would only start a fight. And Steve would just tell him to be patient; that Bucky had good reason to be wary. 

He didn’t seem to consider that Loki had good reason to  _ hate _ Bucky, who had waltzed in and ripped the life he was building partially out from under him, and then couldn’t stop staring, besides. Like he had any room to accuse Loki-- as if it was Loki who stood poised to rip Steve away from  _ him _ . But Loki was trying so hard  _ not _ to hate him. For Steve’s sake. 

He could still hate the situation, though.

Loki got into his room and snarled, tired and frustrated, and  _ the bed was still in a box _ , and he was low enough on magic not to be able to just build it himself. 

The two stick figures that recommended he have a partner seemed to be mocking him with their perfect smooth smiles. 

He’d  _ had _ a partner, but now-- 

“Hey. You alright?” 

Loki spun and there he was, Steve, perfect and kind and too good for any of them, concerned and ready to help. 

Loki grimaced. 

“I’m tired. He won’t stop staring. It feels-- feels like I am on trial. And I forgot my bed.” 

He gestured at the box, overwhelmed enough that he was nearly tearing up. 

He felt his shoulders slump and he let his hands fall to his sides. 

“It’s-- it’s fine. I will deal with this tomorrow. I just… can’t, anymore tonight.

Steve stepped in closer, with a backwards glance toward the door, and pulled Loki in to his chest. 

“Hey, shh, it’s alright. Today’s really taken it out of you, huh?” 

That day, the one before it, the entire week before that, the months of searching… ever since Steve had learned Bucky was alive, it had been  _ taking it out _ of Loki. But he didn’t say that, instead leaning into Steve’s warmth and feeling small and dark and ugly for his thoughts. 

Steve had regained his best friend, and had told Loki  _ explicitly _ that he wanted him there. Loki didn’t know what more he wanted. 

Only that he  _ did _ . 

“Why don’t you go nap on my bed?” Steve asked. “I’ll get Bucky to help me set this up after dinner, and when you wake up, if you’re hungry, we’ll warm up a few pieces of pizza in the microwave for you. How’s that sound?” 

Loki looked into Steve’s face and huffed. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to be a burden; I’m supposed to be here to  _ help _ .” 

Steve took hold of his shoulders, pushing him out at arm’s length so that he could look him in the eye. 

“You are helping. Honest- without you we wouldn’t even have one bed up here yet, probably. It’s fine. And… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, when I asked you to do this, that it would drain you like that. Can you let me know, next time?” 

Loki looked at his feet and nodded. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, words nearly a whisper, and Steve shook his head. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it; it’s fine. You did great. Now come on, let’s get you set up on my bed, just for a bit.” 

Loki let Steve steer him out the bedroom door and down the hall to the master bedroom, where the bed was made up, blankets and pillows and all, and the dresser drawers were hanging open, still empty. 

Steve followed his gaze and smiled. 

“It’ll be a process, just like the rest of this. Just lay down for a bit; it won’t seem so bad once you’ve rested a little, I promise.” 

Fortunately, Steve had a habit of keeping his promises. It made it easier for Loki to believe him. 

He pulled his boots off and flopped down on what had, until recently, been  _ their  _ bed. 

He missed it already. 

“I’ll try and keep the noise to a minimum. And… thanks again, Loki. Really. I’m glad you’re here.” His words were soft, but not half so soft as the kiss that followed, brief though it was. 

And then Steve was gone, back to Barnes, and Loki was left alone. 

Fortunately, sleep wanted him, and came for him quickly.


	2. Two

Steve went to heat the pizza back up, and James wandered toward the back of the place, coming to stop in the doorway to Steve’s room. 

He couldn’t help but overhear when Steve and Loki spoke-- his hearing was enhanced, he knew, and besides, they’d managed to find a relatively quiet portion of Manhattan to settle in. 

He should feel guilty for the way he’d put Loki on edge, but in fairness, he really didn’t know anything about the guy, other than what he’d picked up in the news and SHIELD scuttlebutt. But here was Steve, going along with the guy’s monk act. And the more on edge Loki was, the less on edge James felt. 

People didn’t think straight when they were off balance. Made him less of a threat, and it put James on higher ground, if this was going to turn into a power struggle. 

At the moment, though, it definitely wasn’t. Mainly because Loki was pretty much passed out, exhausted looking even while actively asleep. James was glad he didn’t ever have to see what he looked like while out. 

“Hey.” He said, none too quietly.

Loki flinched, sat up, and instantly raised his hands, green light forming at his fingertips. James raised his hands, showing that he meant no harm. 

“Your bed’s ready, and Steve’s heating up your dinner. Up to you if you want to eat or not, but figured you’d like to know.” 

He watched Loki take a few seconds to organize his thoughts, to understand where he was, and the light faded as he lowered his hand. 

“Ah, yes. My apologies,” he said, gesturing with the hand that had been poised to smite James. 

The was the other thing he didn’t like about this; that damn magic. It was a wild card, a skill and a weapon and a tool that he didn’t know the rules or limits of, and, from what he’d gathered, neither did Steve. 

Had he known that what Loki did today would wear him out that bad, he wouldn’t have asked. And James had a rough understanding of what Loki had done, but no knowledge of what that translated to in terms of energy output, or what an equal amount of power focused on other things could do. 

He’d also rather not find out by getting hit with it, by surprise or otherwise. And he was fairly certain no one had put anti-magic stuff in his arm, so that was another consideration. Plus, he had no idea if he had recovered some during his nap, or if, even running on fumes, Loki had enough left in him to threaten to blow him up.  

All said and told, Loki’s emotional wrong footedness was maybe James’s only means of controlling the Loki situation right now. So he couldn’t very well regret it. 

“Was that all, or…?” Loki asked, the words slightly acerbic, and James realized he’d been staring, again. 

He had a tendency to lose his body to his mind-- no doubt a side effect of years of holding still and waiting for orders. 

He turned and walked away, giving Loki the space to make his choice. James, on the other hand, returned to his room and began the process of pulling his new shirts out of their bags and refolding them into his dresser drawers. 

Steve had apparently thought of everything, or at least, all of the basics. He was grateful. 

He just wished it hadn’t been such a package deal. Getting used to being a person, getting used to this new version of Steve, so different than his jumbled memories of the friend he’d apparently once had, was more than enough. He didn’t need Loki added to that. 

But he also hadn’t had much choice. ‘Stay with SHIELD or come with us’ wasn’t really a choice, not when the options were a cage or open air. 

He just hoped Steve knew what the hell he was doing. He never used to, but maybe that had changed, too.

 

\---

 

“I  _ can’t _ , you know that. I specifically took time off--”

“Doom refuses to talk to anybody else, to negotiate with anyone but you. Since you’re the leader of the Avengers, he’s decided you’re the closest thing we have to an equal for him. Can’t say the president’s any more pleased about it than you are.”

“But Bucky--”

“Barnes isn’t currently threatening to sink the entire Eastern seaboard, doesn’t have the means, and, last I checked, was actually living there, along with your secret villain boyfriend.” Fury crossed his arms. “I really think this takes precedence.” 

Steve clenched his teeth and breathed for the space of a couple of seconds while he thought it through. 

“One: Loki isn’t a villain any more than I am, these days. Two: Make arrangements for tomorrow, tell him I’m on my way. I need to-- to  _ talk _ to Bucky at least.” 

Fury nodded. 

“Knew I could count on you to be sensible about this. See you tomorrow, Captain.” 

Steve wasn’t sure which conversation he dreaded more; the one at home or the one with Doom.

 

\---

 

Loki sat quietly while Steve explained-- to he and Barnes simultaneously-- what was going on. He held his tongue, but could not keep himself from frowning; could not keep himself from sneaking sidelong glances towards Barnes, wondering what he thought of all of this. 

Loki knew, as far as Steve was concerned, he was to be minding Barnes in his absence. That made sense. He was certainly not intending to harm the man. But Barnes had no reason to trust Loki, to feel safe with him. Had no idea how long he had been on Midgard even, nor how long he’d been in Steve’s “care”-- let alone the fact that he and Steve cared for one another far more than a captor and his pet project ought. 

All he knew were the tales of what Loki had done, and that he was living with Steve for supervision. And now Steve was proposing to go away and leave them here. 

The worst of it, though, was that Barnes didn’t seem to understand that yet. 

“So when are we planning on leaving?” He asked, finally, mercifully cutting Steve off from talking in yet another circle, running through everything over again. 

“We aren’t.” Loki said quietly. “Steve wants us to stay here.” He looked down into his lap, bracing for the fight.

That drew Barnes up short. 

“Oh.” He said, and Loki looked up, confused. 

Barnes was looking back and forth between Steve and Loki, and a look of understanding dawned on his face. 

“Okay, yeah. I’ll keep an eye on Loki. How long will you be gone?” 

Loki sputtered indignantly for a moment, but stood and stormed away before he said anything that ruined their lie. 

He hadn’t anticipated it rankling so much, this conviction he’d helped to build in Barnes of his own superiority. It would no doubt help the man as he acclimated, but Loki… 

All it did was remind him of how far he’d come, and how few people truly knew. After all, if not Barnes, any new person could just as easily draw similar conclusions, no matter how wrong they might be. 

And they  _ had _ lied to him about this. So he shouldn’t be taking it so personally. It was just-- Barnes was important to Steve. Loki wanted to be liked, wanted him to accept him, not just as a person, but as Steve’s lover, some day. And this was putting him at a major disadvantage in that goal. 

A necessary evil for now, he reminded himself. 

With a pang, he hoped that he had not squandered his chance to see Steve off in a fit of pique.He’d said he intended to leave the next day, but Loki knew all too well that mornings for Steve came much sooner than they did for most. 

\--no matter; he could simply refuse sleep to say his goodbyes early, and then sleep through the next day; then Barnes would have nothing to complain of when Steve returned. 

...Unless of course something went horribly wrong with Barnes, and Loki was unavailable, too busy sleeping to engage. 

His stomach twisted and he sighed. It felt as though there was no correct answer, and with Barnes so capable of pushing his buttons, he wondered if Steve wouldn’t be wiser asking Sam or someone to be here.

To mind them.

 

A knock came at his door and he rose, bracing himself to have a coded, veiled argument with Steve. Instead, it was Barnes who stood there, looking… bland and blank as ever, he supposed. Certainly not contrite. 

“Steve wants you to come back into the living room, so that we can talk about this and come to some kind of agreement.” He said blithely. 

Loki scowled, wishing that Steve had come himself to deliver the message and unable to imagine why he hadn’t. 

“Does he.” Loki said, sarcasm all but dripping from his words, “Well, as he is in charge of us both, I suppose I have little choice in the matter, mm?” 

He brushed past Barnes and marched out to the living room, anger barely contained behind his facade of pride and distance. 

“You summoned?” He asked icily, and Steve frowned. 

“I’m not asking Bucky to babysit you-- and you aren’t babysitting him, either.” Steve said with no preamble, as Barnes took his seat on the couch. “I want the two of you to look out for each other, unpack, and focus on figuring out how to communicate with one another. I don’t expect to be gone for longer than two days, max. I think you can manage not to kill one another or knock the apartment down in that time, don’t you?” 

Steve was doing his best Captain America voice, which meant he was displeased. Loki was suddenly glad that they wouldn’t have a chance to discuss his ire unless Loki himself manufactured one. 

Which he had to do, he realized, in order to say goodbye properly.    
Chastened, Loki sat down as well. 

“Apologies.” He said. “I… reacted poorly.” He offered no further explanation, aware that in trying to do so he would likely only dig the hole deeper. 

“That’s the last point I wanted to make-- if you guys are having a hard time, I’d actually rather that you just take some time to yourselves. But, there’s food in the cabinets, I’m having more delivered first thing tomorrow, so just put it away when it gets here, okay? And there’s a credit card and a phone in the first drawer if you wanna order out.” 

Loki nodded. 

“I know how to cook and how to call for food; I can take care of that, as needed.” He glanced towards Barnes, not sure whether he was similarly capable. 

If he was, it seemed he planned to keep it to himself; that was fine. 

Steve nodded, and gave Loki a grateful glance.

“And if you feel up to it, maybe you can show Bucky how to do it? Just in case he doesn’t remember.” 

Loki turned to look, but Barnes looked blandly onwards, giving no sign that he had so much as heard, let alone of his capabilities. 

Loki looked forward to feeling like a fool if it turned out he did, and he tried to show him anyway. But that was probably  _ why _ Barnes hadn’t spoken up; no doubt he was looking forward to shaming Loki. 

At least Steve wouldn’t be there to see it. 

“Of course.” Loki said simply. “For now, though-- can I help you with your packing?” 

He realized as the words came out that it was wrong; too intimate sounding for what they were supposed to be now. 

Steve turned to Barnes, hurrying to explain. 

“Loki’s magic, he sometimes uses it on some of my equipment. Makes it stronger.” 

It was a good excuse. 

Barnes nodded. 

“Sounds cool. Can I watch?” 

Loki looked helplessly at Steve and shrugged, unable to un-ruin the moment. He’d meant to create opportunity for them to talk but… 

“It may not be particularly exciting, but I don’t see why not.”

“I’ll go get my bag, be right back.” Steve hurried out of the room, and that left Loki alone with Barnes… a brief taste of what the next couple of days would be like.

 

\---

 

Loki was jumpy-- nervous. 

He thought it was probably at the idea of being left alone with him, but only for a moment. After all, what did Loki have to be afraid of?  _ He  _ had magic. 

Which opened up the possibility that it wasn’t fear, and that he was hiding something. 

That seemed incredibly more likely. And that something could be anything, from a secret to a weapon, given how he could create holes in existence and tuck things away. 

James thought he should be more nervous than he was. But watching Loki squirm helped to center him. And maybe watching Loki the way he did would keep him from doing whatever it was he was planning. 

Like messing with Steve’s equipment, for example. 

And he had a lot of questions about that; how had Steve agreed to letting him bespell his-- what, clothes, shield, weapons-- in the first place? How long had it been going on? How’d he ever manage to trust Loki to do that? What did the magic even  _ do _ ?

But he knew better than to ask questions. Instead he would just watch and learn what he could, and then… well, if Loki  _ was  _ up to something bad, Steve’d need all the help he could get in taking him out. And James had a pretty good left hook these days. 

He watched as Steve emerged from the hallway with a small duffle- watched as he spread out his kit on the coffee table.

Not much had changed, or at least, the overlapping memories made it seem that way. He still wore a bare minimum of armor, more made to stand out than to hide. 

That was another thing that hadn’t changed-- James wasn’t sure if what he felt was jealousy or a sort of angry fear about what an idiot this guy was. Maybe some of both. 

“One gun.” He said shortly. “Kevlar insets in your suit. That’s it?” 

His fingers twitched, and he almost reached for a gun that no longer lived between his shoulder blades. 

“That  _ would _ be it,” Loki said icily, though again his annoyance seemed to be directed at Steve rather than James. “Except that I put shielding spells into his clothing. Bullets bounce off of him, and it covers even the places that his ridiculous ‘helmet’ does not.”

Which, James had to admit that was handy. 

“What about knives? Or more magic?” 

“So far, Loki’s the only magic we’ve come up against, save Wanda’s-- you haven’t met her yet-- but she’s on our side too. And it’s kinda similar to what Loki does.” 

Loki was frowning at Steve over that, so James assumed he disagreed. 

But he didn’t speak on that subject, instead turning back to James. 

“I do guard him against hostile magic, and knives will have the same trouble piercing the cloth as bullets do. Still, I cannot make it fully absorb the impact without causing bruising or breaking bones, if they hit hard enough, so I suppose I do not need to remind you to  _ be careful _ .” Loki turned to Steve for the last of that, and James felt his brow wrinkle at the concern in Loki’s voice. 

Still, he was just as much free because of Steve being willing to babysit him. So maybe he understood where the guy was coming from. A little.

“I will be, I promise.” Steve sounded like he was trying to be reassuring, the same way you’d talk to a kid who was having a nightmare. Though James wasn’t sure how he knew that-- no. Sisters, he’d had sisters. He must have spoken to them like that, once. Or maybe he’d spoken to Steve that way. He shrugged off the thought; it was one to explore later, when he had time to himself to write it down and pick at it. 

Loki didn’t look particularly mollified, but he knelt next to the clothes anyway, raised his hands, and a thin blanketing of green fog fell over all of it, before sinking in and being absorbed by the fabric. 

If James squinted, he thought he might still see a sort of shimmer, but then, he knew how little he could trust his head and his eyes sometimes. Probably he was imagining it. 

Maybe. 

“What was that, exactly?” He asked. 

Loki looked up at him, almost startled looking. 

“It is… energy, I suppose? Forced into the porous fibers of the clothing. It fills all of those holes, makes it less penetrable-- would you like to try it?” 

Loki summoned a knife, and James felt his eyes narrowing. He took the offered weapon and ignored the way Steve stared, obviously just as on edge as Loki. 

And James had to admit this was a pretty good move, if Loki wanted to make sure Steve wasn’t suspicious. Loki looked like a good guy, if he didn’t hesitate to arm James. 

He inspected the edge of the dagger, thumbing at it with his metal arm before he swung it suddenly downwards, knife hitting the uniform on the table with a dull thud. It didn’t tear, though, and that was immediately obvious. But just to be doubly sure, James lifted the cloth and tried slashing, then sawing at it. 

“And the range doesn’t affect your magic?” He asked, half afraid that Loki would give Steve the protection, only to yank it out from under him at the least opportune moment, mid-battle. 

But Loki shook his head no. 

“The magic is in the suit now, and will remain there until I take it back, when he returns.” 

Loki looked up and at Steve, and it made James’s stomach churn, the way he seemed to be looking for permission to continue talking, or some sign of Steve’s approval. 

He knew from experience the way that sort of mentality of subservience could come to chafe, to grow into resentment. He didn’t think Steve was the sort to ask for it, but he didn’t know, and either way, he didn’t like it.

“Loki and I experimented with his spells early on; when I get back, maybe we can do more of that. I know you have nine million questions about how his magic works, and I’ll bet three heads are better than two. But this works real well-- it’s cut down my recovery and healing time to a quarter of what it used to be, after most missions. Basically turns my uniform into an extension of my shield. So thanks, Loki.” Steve said, gathering up his things.

There was something in Loki’s expression, something almost sad, and James found himself staring again, watching Loki watch Steve. 

It was weird. But probably just reliance. 

He wondered what would happen when they decided Loki could be trusted or was better or whatever. Where would he go? Would he know how to live in this kind of world? Would he be able to leave?

James didn’t think he felt protective, but the line of thought came just the same, no doubt prompted by the lost look that Loki wore. 

Of course, the moment he noticed James looking, the expression shuttered off, and he looked proud, distant, and maybe a little angry.

He wasn’t sure what it was about him that caused that reaction-- he’d been under the impression that not only did Loki not know of his crimes to hold them against him, but that he’d committed his own share of atrocities. 

And that left him to wonder if maybe that was how Loki reacted to anyone who wasn’t Steve. 

It would make for a pretty unpleasant living situation, if that was the case. 

Or worse, it would get in the way of Loki being able to leave, to count as being fully rehabilitated. He wondered if Loki had considered that, or if Steve had even seen it yet. If he’d kept Loki isolated from everyone else so far, there wouldn’t be a chance for it to come up. 

Which meant one of two things: it would be blamed on James himself, or… or that was what he had to look forward to, as well. A slightly more social cell, only the other prisoner hated him. 

He found himself scowling, and blinked when he realized Loki had recoiled. 

But it was too late; Steve had gone back to his room, and Loki was headed for his, and that left James, alone in the shared space of the apartment. Theoretically free, but at a loss. 

The next couple of days were going to be rough.

 

\---

 

He spent half of the night waiting-- long enough that Steve was starting to think that Loki wouldn’t come at all. He’d been angry at him earlier in the day, and he knew this whole situation was unfair and less than ideal, for Loki even more than he or Bucky. 

He was the one making Loki lie and sneak around, after all. 

But he needed Loki to do that; he didn’t know how advanced Bucky had ended up becoming, but he could for sure hear better than most people, and that alone would be enough to give them away if Steve tried to go to Loki, rather than the other way around. 

Still, he was considering doing it anyway, rather than leave with things the way they were between Loki and he, when Loki knocked lightly on his door.

He jerked it open quickly, glancing past him to be sure Bucky wasn’t looking. But Loki had a shimmering gold shield raised behind him-- his spell to stop sound from getting out, and possibly to create an illusion of an empty hall and a closed door, as well. 

They’d used something similar fairly often back at the tower, when all of this had started, and now… 

Loki pushed past him and filled the room with it, wrapping the spell around all of the walls, the ceiling, the floor-- nothing they said would make it to Bucky’s ears. 

Steve let out his breath and reached for Loki, not entirely surprised at the way Loki launched himself into his arms. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re doing great.” He told him, rubbing a hand over his back. He winced, though, glad that Loki couldn’t see it. But Loki pulled back and he did his best to smooth out the expression.

“You’ve never lied well, least of all to me. I am doing poorly-- and now I have to do it without you. What am I meant to do with him while you’re gone?”

Steve shook his head. 

“Just… go about your day. Keep him here, or go out together-- I know you can handle bringing you both back here if anything happens. But, other than that, I don’t know. Just get to know him?” 

He watched the way Loki’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“What happens if he hates me?” Loki asked, and Steve felt as if something under his ribs was constricting. 

“Hey, no-- he won’t. Trust me, I-- I know him, and I know you and, no matter how rocky of a start it might be, I’m sure you guys will hit your stride. Just so long as he doesn’t end up falling for you the way I did, I don’t see how we could have a problem.” He summoned a weak smile at his own joke.

He refused to even entertain the notion. Neither of them knew one another yet. It was far too early to worry about them  _ hating _ each other. 

“And if it looks like a problem, you can just take off, or read in your room or something.”

Loki sighed, then shook his head. 

“I meant long term. What happens if… if he is too afraid of my magic, too mistrustful of me. What happens if my living here is too difficult for him?” 

He knew Loki wouldn’t let this go, that he didn’t have the same level of stubborn assurance that Steve used to cover up his doubts. 

“If it’s that bad… if it turns out that this won’t work out… you and I will sit down with him and tell him the truth. We’ll talk it over like adults, and… and if he doesn’t want to be around us anymore, I’ll…” It was Steve’s turn to swallow. “I’ll figure something out. Make other arrangements. For him.” 

He hated even thinking it, much less saying it, and he knew the words had come out hollowly. But at least he knew he’d given Loki what he needed. 

He needed to know that he still came first, somewhere in all of this. 

Steve couldn’t hold that against him

But he knew Loki was holding it against himself. So he reached out again, took his hand, and pulled him into his arms. 

“We deserve to be happy.  _ You _ deserve to be happy. And so does he. Thank you for trying this for me, but if it doesn’t pan out-- I promise I won’t send you away, or leave you for his sake, okay? There are always other options.” 

Loki met his eyes, and Steve’s breath caught. 

He looked seconds from crying, but the expression he wore was inscrutable. He wondered what was going on in Loki’s mind. But he didn’t know how to ask, without it feeling invasive to Loki. 

“Just come home safe to me. I’ll try-- I’ll keep trying, while you’re gone, but I need you to come back.” 

“I will. You know I will. This is just a diplomatic outing; they aren’t even sending out the whole team. And I have your magic keeping me safe. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

He could see the doubt in Loki’s face, but Loki didn’t say anything. Instead he took hold of Steve’s head and kissed him with a desperation that their kisses hadn’t had-- hadn’t  _ needed _ to have-- for months now. 

The sort born of not knowing when they’d be able to kiss, to touch, again. 

“I’ll let you know if plans change.” Steve heard himself promising. And then, “I love you.” 

It didn’t feel like enough, not with as much as Loki was giving up right now to try and help him. He’d have to figure out something better-- and soon. 

But Loki held him tight as if it was the only thing he wanted, and Steve didn’t have the heart to pull away. Not yet. 

He got Loki back to his room before the sun rose and left not long after, hoping against hope that somehow everything here would have settled a bit by the time he got back. 


	3. Three

The sound of alarms roused him from an admittedly late sleep, but he’d been too wrapped in his own misery to rest until after Steve had left that morning. 

And so it was well after two pm when he stumbled into the kitchen to find Barnes attempting to put out the fire he had started in a glass pan. 

It was sitting on the table, burning merrily, the smoke alarm a few feet away screaming shrilly. 

Barnes hadn’t even noticed Loki yet, but with a few quick gestures, he extinguished the fire, trapped the smoke in a shield, and opened a window, forcing it outside. 

That done, he took up the broom that was tucked into the cabinet and pushed the silencing button on the alarm, the quiet that followed ringing in its own right. 

“I burnt my first few dishes as well.” Loki offered, trying to be friendly, making an attempt at smoothing things over. “What was it?” 

He peered at the blackened mass in the dish, but couldn’t tell. 

Barnes had a grimace all but etched into his face.

“Lunch.” He said, somewhat unhelpfully, and no small amount mournfully.

Loki nodded just the same, attempting to keep his smile from tightening. 

“I apologize that I was not awake to help. May I… help now?” 

He wasn’t sure if his aid would be welcomed or if Barnes would bristle at his interference. 

Before he got the chance to find out, though, the doorbell rang, and Loki stiffened. 

Barnes took up a knife, seemingly out of nowhere, though it was a kitchen blade. Loki shook his head quickly and raised his hand. 

“Let me-- I’m going to change our appearances. Let me speak to whomever it is.”

Barnes narrowed his eyes, but nodded, and Loki made the illusion in a moment’s worth of work.

When the door opened, he faced them as Steve; he’d be answering the door from here on out, and with any luck this construct would carry over to his form just fine. 

Loki adopted Steve’s charmingly embarrassed grimace. 

“Sorry about that,” He said. “We uh, didn’t think to check the new stove before we tried cooking in it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, echoing Steve’s habitual motion. 

“I take it you’re the new neighbors, then.” The man said-- he was older, wrinkles around his eyes, and he seemed fairly amused. “Never heard anyone move in so quietly, but I guess now it makes sense why.” 

Loki swallowed, realizing that he-- or, at least,  _ Steve _ \-- had been recognized. 

“Ah… yeah, makes some things a little easier.” He tried for Steve’s modesty, but wasn’t sure if he achieved it.

“Not the kitchen though, apparently. Oh hello dear!” 

The woman beside the man, his wife by the looks of it, was looking past Loki into the apartment, and he wished she hadn’t. 

“This is Lana, my girlfriend.” He introduced quickly, before Barnes could ruin it. 

He’d illusioned Barnes into his own female form, the one he wore in public with Steve. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, and I was going to bring this over even before we heard the alarm going off-- I hope neither of you have dairy allergies.” 

She lifted a glass pan that appeared to be full of cheesy potatoes, and Loki realized that there was no way for him to take it; it would shatter the illusion, and more, she wore oven mitts. It was still hot. 

With an internal sigh, he stepped aside to gesture her into the kitchen, turning the gesture into another quick little spell, to change Barnes’ voice if he did decide to join the conversation. 

“That’s very kind of you, thanks. Lana, would you mind grabbing plates for our guests?” He asked. 

“Oh, no, that one’s for you, we have our own waiting back across the hall. I’m just glad you have furniture to eat it on-- we thought you might be waiting for the movers to show up yet.” The man told them quickly, and Loki couldn’t help but be relieved. 

“Thank goodness Steve here can carry a couch one handed, or we would be.” Barnes chirped, almost too cheerfully-- no doubt his own over compensation for the voice that he’d expected to come out of his mouth.

“Well! I hope you don’t mind my saying, I may be trying to trade you baked goods for a hand sometime, if that’s the case.” The woman said. 

“I’d be happy to make that deal.” Loki told her solemnly, but smiling. “After all, what are neighbors for? Though-- I’m sorry, I don’t think we got your names.” 

“I’m Mitch and this is Evelyn. Like I said, just across the hall there if you need anything.” Mitch seemed to be beaming just as widely as his wife, and Loki could not imagine anyone more obviously matched for one another in that moment. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mitch and Evelyn. And thank you for the welcome. We’ll have your dish back to you as soon as we can.” 

“Alright. You two have a good night!” Evelyn said, fortunately accepting his dismissal with a grace that Loki wouldn’t have expected. Bu then, they had food waiting. He was sure that helped. 

He waved them off, then shut the door behind them and dropped the enchantments. 

“Lana?” Barnes asked, and Loki cleared his throat, genuinely embarrassed this time.

“It is, ah… Occasionally when we go out, I take that shape to keep people from realizing… who I truly am.” He said it quietly, hoping that Barnes would not read too much into the admission-- and the fact that he’d identified ‘Lana’ as Steve’s girlfriend.

He seemed to ponder it, but didn’t comment, his attention turning to the potatoes instead. 

“Smells good. You think it’s safe to eat?” 

“I could check it for toxins, if you like.” Loki offered, curious about Barnes’ paranoia when it wasn’t directed at him, almost in spite of himself. 

“But I doubt there will be any. They are probably just kindly old folk. The point of this place is its being safe, after all.”

Barnes considered it, then pushed the dish towards Loki silently with one of his silver fingers. 

Loki inclined his head and waved his hands over it, a brief haze forming, then quickly dissipating. 

“All clear; help yourself.”

Barnes stared at him, and Loki realized that he had taken for granted Barnes’ trust. For all he knew, it hadn’t been poisoned before, but Loki had just done so. 

He sighed and took a plate out, dishing some for himself. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. Steve would never forgive me, and, no matter how unlikely you may find it to be, I am  _ actually _ trying to do better.” 

He took a hearty bite of the potatoes to demonstrate his willingness to eat them, but turned and took them to his room, demonstrating his unwillingness to eat with someone who not only didn’t welcome his presence, but actively feared him. 

 

\---

 

He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but he’d driven Loki away again already. 

Side effect of forgetting to be a person, probably. He kept doing that, forgetting to make choices that people expected of him. 

This was fine, though; he didn’t mind being alone, and at least, unlike being left alone at HYDRA, he’d been left with food that was, it seemed, wholly edible. Good, even.

He’d have to try cooking again later, so that he could return Evelyn’s pan with something in it.

He didn’t know how he knew that was a thing you were supposed to do, but he did. 

And something came to mind-- little flat cakes, hot and crumbling, the nuts and chocolate inside burning against the skin of his hand-- hands. He’d had two that felt heat, back then. 

_ Cookies _ . 

Someone used to make them for him...

He strained to remember, thoughts interrupted by a glop of potatoes falling back to the pan he was eating out of. 

Well. He’d write it down and see if it came back to him. 

He’d have to ask Loki if he knew how to make  _ cookies _ later, when he came out again. 

He devoted himself to eating instead, realizing that he’d been left with all of it to himself, save the small serving that Loki had taken. He  _ was _ hungry, but it didn’t have a lid, and thus there was no good way of preserving it for later. And he had known hunger too often to be comfortable wasting it. So he ate, the process becoming more and more of a chore as he went on, but eventually he’d finished the pan off and moved it to the sink, filling it with water. He felt uncomfortable, over full, but at least accomplished, and he’d managed to cross feeding himself off of the list of things he needed to do. Probably for the rest of the day.  

He had a mind to lay down for a while, allow himself to digest, maybe write down  _ cookies _ and think about what he knew of them.

But when he opened the door to his room, he smelled something-- and then he saw it curled up on his pillow. 

_ Cat _ , his mind supplied readily. Very helpful. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked out loud, startling the visitor, or at least, waking it up. It looked at him, blinked, and stretched lazily. 

It wore a collar, and he found himself tensing further. 

“Loki?” He called, pitching his voice to carry but keeping an eye on the intruder. 

Loki appeared a moment later, obviously worried. He realized maybe he had done the wrong thing. Except--

“Why is there a cat on your bed?” He asked, and James looked to him for a moment to try and guess what he felt about it. He seemed… puzzled. Maybe annoyed. 

James shrugged. 

“I just found it here. It’s not yours, then?” 

He realized now, after the fact, that he’d almost assumed it was a sort of prank. That Loki had summoned a cat out of the same nowhere he’d kept their furniture in, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. 

Loki was looking at him oddly.

“No, it isn’t mine. But it is someone’s-- it’s wearing a collar.” 

Bucky nodded. 

“I wanna take it off.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he was even fully aware they’d formed in his mind. 

And now Loki was looking at him like he was crazy. 

He didn’t know how to explain that figurative collars were bad enough; seeing real ones on anything gave him the chills in the pit of his (still very full) stomach. 

“We can’t keep the cat-- what would we tell Steve? What would we feed it? And someone else will miss it.” 

“I don’t want to keep it-- just take its collar off.” He shrugged again, knowing that probably sounded stupid. 

“It got away from its owners, and the only way it will find its way back, assuredly, is that collar. If you take it off and it gets away from us, how will it ever find its home again?”

James shrugged, again. 

“I don’t like the collar.” He said, aware he sounded both simple and sullen. 

Loki made a face like he’d bitten into a lemon. 

“Well, let us see what we can gather from the tag on it. It may belong to someone nearby, and then both cat and collar can return home before it has a chance to bother you any further.”

That said, Loki strode forward and reached out one hand to the cat, offering it for its consideration, though he held it in a loose fist. 

The cat apparently was untroubled by this; it stared up at Loki, glanced at James, then began washing itself. 

This didn’t stop it from yowling indignantly when Loki lifted it up, though. 

“Ah.” Loki said a moment, later, as if he wasn’t actively being clawed by a squirming cat. “There’s a phone number. Will you hold it while I fetch the phone?”

James accepted the writhing creature, pleasantly surprised by how soft it was, and no small amount of grateful for the direction Loki had handed it to him in, when he noticed the way its little claws were scrabbling in the joints of his arm. 

He reached up with his flesh hand and stroked a finger along the top of its head, which calmed it down a bit, and made it start rumbling-- purring. 

By the time Loki returned with his cell phone-- Steve had provided one to each of them-- the cat had settled and was perched along James’s arm, curled against him, eyes shut and humming to itself softly. James lifted her tail, though her ears flicked back in annoyance, and let it fall again as soon as he’d ascertained that she was, in fact, a she.

“She’s calmer now.” He told Loki, voice hushed so as not to upset her, though he felt smug about his ability to be more soothing than Loki was, even if it was just to something as small as this cat. 

“She was quite calm on your bed as well,” Loki told him mildly. “But I see she still has her collar on. Thank you for that.”

With a start, James realized he had forgotten about the collar, in favor of stroking along the soft fur of her back. He lifted the shoulder of his free arm in a shrug as Loki dialed.

They waited a few moments, and then Loki’s expression changed. 

“Hello, I’m trying to reach Teeny’s owner? Yes, ah pleasure to meet you Anna, ah-- your cat seems to have found her way into my apartment.”

He went silent for a moment, and Bucky petted ‘Teeny’s ears. 

“Certainly, I can text you the address-- ah, hm. I understand. No, we should be here. Alright, thank you.” 

And with that he hung up. 

“Her owner will be here to pick her up as soon as she is able-- she apparently works across town. So all we need to do is figure out how she got in, and prevent her from leaving long enough for them to be reunited.”

James nodded. 

“We should put her in the bathroom. Small room, no hiding places. We’ll clear the rest of the apartment from there.”

To his surprise, Loki nodded in agreement. 

“Seems reasonable. Let me just fetch her a water bowl and a blanket to keep her comfortable, in case it takes us some time to figure out how she got in.”

Steve, James thought, would be so proud of their ability to communicate.

He turned to watch Loki go, but nearly as soon as he’d walked away, Teeny was squirming her way out of his arms to scamper after him. 

“Hey!” He called, despite the utter pointlessness of the outburst. 

Loki spun to see what had caused it, saw the cat coming, and tried to rearrange his feet so as not to step on her-- only to fall on his ass instead. 

“She uh. Got away.” James pointed out, helpfully, in an attempt not to comment on Loki’s undignified sprawl. 

Loki seemed less than grateful.

“I’ll just, uh--” He pointed in the direction Teeny had gone and stepped over Loki to follow her.

 

\---

 

He got himself up off the ground and couldn’t help but wonder how Steve would be handling this, if he were here.

More gracefully than Loki, that was certain, he thought as he wiped the scowl off of his face. 

He left Barnes to track down the cat, trusting that Hydra’s assassin could manage that much on his own. In the meantime, he did as he’d said he would, setting out a bowl filled with water and folding a towel up  before rolling a fleece blanket around it, fashioning a perfectly serviceable cushion, which he lay in the bathtub, for when they locked the cat up until its owner could come. 

It was already too much trouble, but at least Barnes had shown interest in that, rather than simply hiding away and sulking, as he might otherwise have done. 

That, or setting something else on fire. 

Emerging back into the living room, he saw Barnes crouched down, peering under the couch. 

Which would have been funny enough, if the cat weren’t clearly visible atop the refrigerator. 

“Barnes?” He asked, and when the man looked to him, clearly frustrated, Loki flicked a finger in the direction of the kitchen, and he stood hurriedly-- which,  _ of course _ , spooked the cat and sent her running again, scrambling from fridge top to counter top to the table, to the floor. 

Loki sent magic after her, intending only to float her so that she couldn’t get traction, but she swerved and dodged it, making a break for Steve’s room at the far end of the hallway. And the look that Barnes levelled at him was so  _ scathing _ , he couldn’t help but wonder what he thought Loki meant to do to the creature.

He didn’t say a word, though, brushing past him to follow her and Loki hung back, giving him a few moments’ lead. 

He followed, though he lingered in the doorway, with some vague idea that perhaps when she tried to escape, he might capture her there. 

But she was perched on the bed, apparently pleased with herself, and Barnes was crouched next to the bed, putting himself on her level.

“Why were you in Steve’s room?” He asked, voice again soft and low, so as not to scare the cat away, but his eyes flicked towards Loki and he froze.

“I slept in here when we moved in, if you recall?” He offered, though he knew it was a weak defense. He wasn’t sure what had given him away, but somehow, Barnes  _ knew.  _

Barnes frowned, but nodded. 

“Right.” He said, sounding distant, and Loki felt a pang, well aware that Barnes had trouble trusting his own mind, at times. The doctors had outlined his case as well as they could, in advance of Barnes coming to live with them, and while Loki was trying to keep it in mind...

It seemed almost cruel to lie to him, but it was what Steve had asked that Loki do. He just couldn’t help but wonder if doing as he asked would end in Steve hating him for doing it. 

“Here, you mind your friend, I’ll get the bathroom ready.” 

Better than trying to avoid starting fights by lying, at any rate. 

 

\---

 

James watched Loki leave, and wondered if he was just paranoid or if it had been more abrupt than necessary. Had he offended him?

He looked to the cat, as if she might have the answer, but she had found a streak of sunlight to sprawl out in, and was actively shedding ginger hairs all over Steve’s bed. 

He wondered what Steve would think of that, when he noticed. 

Obviously he would. 

Just as James had noticed the signs of Loki having spent more time in here recently. A strand of his hair on a bedside table, a smell that was too strong to have been leftover from the day before. He didn’t have to go looking for that information, it came to him without any work on his part. 

Unless whatever kind of alien magic thing Loki was worked differently than humans, he’d been there the night before. And Bucky hadn’t heard him moving around, and more importantly, he hadn’t heard any talking.

Had Steve known he was here? Or did he sneak in-- and why? Was he trying to steal something?

The evidence being centered around the bed made him wonder--

He checked on the cat and checked to be sure the door was closed, then dropped down to look under the bed. 

There were boxes, the kind that looked like giant tupperware, and Bucky scowled, wondering why Steve didn’t just get another chest of drawers. Or just a straight up chest. Apparently he and all of his friends were rich in the future. 

There was a conspicuous space left empty, though, and from the size of it, it was probably where Steve kept his go-bag. 

It was one thing seeing things that shouldn’t be there; it was nearly impossible to guess what should be, but wasn’t. Particularly when they had only just moved in. 

“The bathroom is ready for her now; would you like to catch her, or shall I?”

“You gonna do it with your hands, or with magic?” James asked, which he thought was a fair question. 

The cat was someone’s pet. She was used to hands. Magic… probably less so. 

Loki looked at him as if he had been slapped, though. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He said, and james wrinkled his nose. That wasn’t what he’d asked-- or at least, wasn’t an answer to that question. But he knew things were sometimes less literal than he wanted them to be. 

So he picked up Teeny and carried her to the bathroom. She didn’t seem particularly pleased, struggling to sit up in his arms, instead of being carried like a baby, but once he let her do that, she tried to squirm free, so he held her in place with his strong hand. 

Loki was hovering, probably to catch her if she managed to get free, but James knew that wasn’t necessary. 

Loki had wrapped one of the pillows from the couch in a blanket and sat it in the bathtub, and James sat her down on it, glad to see she’d at least be comfortable while she waited. There was water  and a can of tuna in there, too-- a good set up for a cat, all things considered. 

He was on his way towards backing out of the room when he saw her stand, stretch, and climb up the shower and out the overhead window like she’d been doing it all of her life. 

“Dammit, Loki!” He called, launching himself towards the window to see where she’d gone. 

“We’ve gotta grab her- her owner is coming to pick her up!” 

“I can call the owner back-- I am certain Teeny knows her own way, if that’s how she has been getting around.” Loki pointed out, obviously trying to sound sensible. 

James grabbed hold of Loki’s wrist with his metal hand. 

“Use your magic so we can go after her.” He commanded. 

Loki scowled, but did  _ something _ and then they were falling through the wall of the shower and onto the roof, where Teeny was just leaping from their building to the next. 

“Come on!” James instructed, letting go of Loki and trusting him to follow. 

He made the leap and kept Teeny in his sights, her stupid furry body a bright streak against the dark roofs of the apartments they were careening across.


End file.
